


Late Nights

by misskitcat



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskitcat/pseuds/misskitcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock comes home drunk from a case and John is forced to take care of him. There wont be any sleep for anyone tonight. Late night confessions, angst and romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drunk Text

THE MILK JOHN - SH

It was twelve thirty in the morning, John was about to go up for the night as he was too tired to wait up for Sherlock any longer. He sighed and typed a quick response, it was odd for Sherlock to be in all caps but John didn't think much of it.

Sod off - JW

He chuckled and sat back down on the couch.

Ill giv yoU sex JonE – SH

John Watson stared at the phone for a minute. Jone? What on earth? The realization hit him. Sherlock Holmes was plastered. He chuckled again and decided he would play this out a bit; it could be great blackmail in the future.

You called me Jone, are you drinking? – JW

No – SH

Yes – SH

IM osrry I said id be hme by 9 - SH

I knew you were gay. –JW

Th correct termn is hmosexual – SH

jOhnnnn – SH

Tosser. – JW

I Need milk John – SH

I'll get you your bloody milk tomorrow, it's late. – JW

It mst be Skimn –SH

I hate skim. – JW

Emly was sekl conscius aboit her weit – SH

Typical Sherlock, drunk as hell and still had his mind on a case.

Don't Throe it awy thsi timw – SH

Don't get drunk and offer your body – JW

NO I dint

im ot drunk

i AM testing

texign

texting -SH

'listen Emily was sekf concius of her weiht wEightr she wouldn hav eaten the rol – SH

I think it's time for bed. I'll get you some aspirin and water. – JW

the Doori is loked uncock it – SH

uncock it eh? – JW

wiht th key – SH

John heard a loud thump from below and a muffled "John!" He rolled his eyes and sighed. He wouldn't be sleeping much tonight after all. He got up and made his way to the door.

"JOHNN" Sherlock moaned while hitting his head against the door.

"I'm locked out, let me in."

"Why should I?" John teased; if he wasn't going to sleep he may as well get a laugh out of this.

There was a pause. "Milk John." And the thumping resumed. John chuckled and opened the door. Sherlock stumbled in onto John nearly knocking him over. John held him up as best as he could, the detective was quite heavy. Sherlock stared at him inches away from his face.

"Milk." His voice was softer and smelled of liquor.

John steadied the detective and rolled his eyes leading him to the flat. When they arrived Sherlock immediately collapsed on the couch. John let him lay there and started the kettle.

"About that sex..." He asked jokingly while setting out the aspirin.

Sherlock was asleep and cuddling the throw pillow snoring softly. John chuckled softly and the set the water and medication on the coffee table. He watched the sleeping genius for a moment before covering him with the blanket. He pushed the detectives hair out of his face carefully and turned the light out.


	2. Into The Night

John was jerked from his sleep by a yelp followed by a loud thump. He sighed and muttered obscenities as he got out of his cozy bed. He found his way to the living room to see Sherlock on the floor wrapped tight in the blanked holding his head and wincing.

John laughed from the door frame "Serves you right getting sloshed!" Sherlock was still holding his head making muffled whimpering noises. John sighed and began to untangle the detective.

"Milk." Sherlock said as he was steadied.

John rolled his eyes and looked to Sherlock. "Off to bed then." He helped walk him to his bedroom and lay him on the bed sideways covering him with his sheets. John decided that tonight he would have to be a babysitter. He'd done this before in the army, staying by your drunken friend's side through the night so that they don't choke on their vomit and die. He stole Sherlock's blanket and one pillow and moved his rubbish bin to the side of his bed. Sherlock opened his eyes which were bleary and unfocused.

"John..."

"Yes Sherlock?" He replied yawning and settling into his makeshift bed.

"Thank you…so." He was drifting off. John wanted to be angry with him but he couldn't, he was so innocent and for once not a cold standoffish git.

"It's okay, I know." John closed his eyes and began to drift off.

John began to drift off after a few moments; he figured Sherlock must be stable enough for now.

"John, he was going to hurt you." Sherlock said in a barely there voice from under the sheets.

"Hmn?" He turned to face Sherlock who obviously despite his drunken state was not going to sleep.

"He was going to kill you, in the pool. I was…It was horrifying." The body above him shivered and clutched the sheets more. Sherlock must still be very drunk, this wasn't like him. He never showed much emotion or caring let alone fear, especially for someone else's well being.

"I know, I'm fine though, why are you concerned about this now?" John asked with mild concern.

There was a slight pause. "Why wouldn't it bother me? Isn't it 'normal' to be concerned when something like that happens to someone you.." He paused and looked slightly confused. John smiled to himself. It was a nice change. He knew Sherlock cared for him but he always appreciated the few times when he would show it.

"I know." John said calmly, he knew Sherlock was struggling and that he desperately needed sleep.

"You're my friend and I don't want to lose you." Sherlock began again.

"I know, it's okay, I'm fine you see?" He sat up to show he was fine, he chuckled to himself and lay his head gently on the side of the bed. "Get some sleep."

Sherlock began blinking rapidly and breathing heavily. John lifted his head and stared at the detective.

"Are you okay?"

Sherlock swallowed and looked away from John.

"I'm fine John. Why wouldn't I be?" He sat up against the headboard and clutched his pillow and glanced at John.

John relaxed seeing that Sherlock was indeed fine and awake. He wouldn't sleep at all tonight. "Are you sleepy or shall we talk?" He said with a sigh lying back down.

Sherlock slid back into the sheets and faced the ceiling.

"Have you anything to talk about?"

John bit his lip as he usually did when he was thinking. He replied that there was nothing he had to say. The two lay in silence. Sherlock turned to John and propped himself up.

"What happened last night…?" Sherlock said with slight concern.

John chuckled "You were sloshed and locked out, I let you in and you passed out on the couch."

Sherlock winced as if remembering that he was indeed hung-over. He clutched his head again.

John chuckled and sat up he saw that his flat mate was out of water.

"It's not funny."

John pushed Sherlock's hair out of his face again before he could think about it. He began blushing and walked out of the room quickly questioning his sanity on the way. Did he really just caress his flat mate? He shook his head trying to forget it and poured the water. When he returned Sherlock was sitting up with the light on staring at him.

"What- Sherlock how are you not sleepy or hurt by this?" John was impressed by Sherlock's ability to handle light and stay awake but he knew the detective needed sleep.

"Im not tired John, I want coffee." The detective got up and stumbled slightly to the door.

"No you don't." John grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders gently and sat him on the bed. "Sleep" he said in his most authoritative voice.

Sherlock frowned. "I…" John shot him a "don't fuck with me" look which apparently worked as the detective lay back down.

John turned off the light and lay back down on the floor.

"I can lay on the floor…" Sherlock said in a small voice.

"Why? It's your room. I'm making sure you won't die." John looked back up to Sherlock who was half hidden in his pillow.

"Why don't you go sleep in your room? I'm fine here." Sherlock replied looking back to John.

John looked to him for a moment as if assessing him. "If you're sure, its no trouble for me to stay."

Sherlock rose quickly and proclaimed that he needed coffee again and began stumbling toward the room. John rolled his eyes and got up; he grabbed the detectives hand and led him back to the bed.

"I will make the coffee." He said with a sigh as he left Sherlock sitting on the bed. A moment later Sherlock followed him out into the kitchen.

"For the love of god Sherlock, go to sleep, you're mad!" He says exasperated.

Sherlock opened the fridge. "We're out of milk." He says in a flat voice.

John cursed quietly and poured the cup silently fuming. "You really should sleep." He said drinking his own cup as if his life depended on it.

"I did sleep John." The detective replied with a slight whine.

John closed his eyes and sighed. "I need to sleep, do you need me?" He looked to Sherlock again. Sherlock shook his head and was staring into his coffee.

"Sure?" John says with slight concern, he had never dealt with a drunken Sherlock, he wasn't sure if he should stay up or not. Sherlock looked so innocent with his slightly flushed skin and his bed head. In truth John didn't mind staying awake with him.

"Yes of course." Sherlock looked up to the doctor. His face was different, softer than its usual cold beauty. "Thank you." His voice was sincere and his eyes were different, he looked grateful, which was completely unlike Sherlock. John was taken aback the two looked to each other for a second before the doctor leaned in slightly without thinking. He caught himself and looked away clearing his throat and going red. What the hell was he doing? What was he about to do? "Right then..." He said quickly leaving the room before he could make the situation any worse. He was tired. That was it, exhaustion made you delirious. Sleep, he needed sleep so he could forget about the horribly embarrassing thing he had almost done. He knew though, in the back of his mind that he wanted it whether he was sleepy or not, however his flat mate was extremely asexual and John wasn't even gay! He rushed to his room and sat on his bed attempting to gain some composure when he heard Sherlock in the door way. John flushed red again and looked up. "Er…yes Sherlock?" He looked down, he couldn't face Sherlock yet. He knew he would be angry. He felt the detectives gaze. He was utterly and completely mortified. Suddenly he felt long fingers lift his chin up. Sherlock leaned in and kissed him quickly before leaving the room faster than John could process what just happened. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes kissing. Sherlock Holmes kissing HIM. John paused for a moment breathing out even though he hadn't remembered holding his breath. He touched his fingers to his mouth softly and blushed all over again. The kiss was warm and soft. When he regained some of his composure he went down to Sherlock's room which was shut up. "Sherlock…?" he said softly leaning in to hear. There was cold silence. John frowned and left feeling ashamed. He climbed back to his room and sat on the bed willing himself to not be upset. It was a fluke. Of course a mistake, it was ridiculous to believe such things. He heard footsteps and then Sherlock clearing his throat in the doorway. John sighed. How much more humiliation could he take? He turned to the door hesitantly. Sherlock was standing tall, his usual standoffish self was back.

"I'm um, I'm very sorry. That was rude and disrespectful and…" Sherlock cut off, his voice was cold and professional.

John blushed again and rubbed the back of his neck. "No, no it's…" He was at a loss for words. The detective came into the room further and sunk to the floor.

"I didn't mean to offend you or, I thought…I assumed it would be okay" He sighed heavily and looked down. John was still for a moment, frozen. His entire body was on fire. He bit his lip and sunk down to sit across from the detective. Sherlock looked up hesitantly, he looked heartbreakingly sad. John bit his lip again and leaned in quickly before he could stop himself. He placed on hand gently on the detectives face and the other on the back of his head as he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Sherlock went rigid and then began to return the kiss with curiosity. John caressed the detective's face softly still kissing him, he then pulled away and sighed. He opened his eyes to see Sherlock going scarlet and blinking like mad.

"Well that…" Sherlock said looking mildly shocked.

John looked down and began shaking his head. "I'm sorry I just, I didn't think." He said quickly and let out a deep breath that he must have been holding. He was going scarlet again as he wished for the floor to swallow him whole. There was a pause.

"We're out of milk." Sherlock said calmly.

John began breathing heavily against his will for control. "Yes er, I will go and er..." He stood up and took a deep breath squaring his shoulders. He had been rejected before. He knew he must bow out as gracefully as he could. He cleared his throat and swallowed. "Wont…" he paused swallowing as he looked down into the detectives eyes. "Wont happen again." He stood for a moment then turned to the door.

"It's okay." Sherlock said calmly. John closed his eyes and swallowed again. He really couldn't take anymore of this.

"Yes, fine. Its fine, accidents happen." He walked to the door again trying to keep some composure, any really.

"Oh…well of course its only natural. Y-you have Mary and I. Never mind. This, well…" The detective broke off. His voice was composed it sounded sad. John stopped confused. Why on earth would Sherlock be sad? He shook his head "Yes, right.' He mumbled before the detective could say anything more. He turned again when he felt a cool hand grab his. He turned around confused and before he could speak Sherlock's mouth was pressed gently against his, his hand hesitantly on his waist. John leaned into the kiss and returned it.


	3. Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short, will update Tuesday! love to you all!

When the two finally came up for air, the first light of day was coming through the window. They were sprawled out on John’s floor still dazed. John looked up at Sherlock who was calmly laying back in soft light. “Yes John?” the detective said his eyes still closed. “Nothing.” John replied lowering his head into the crook of Sherlock's arm. Sherlock was back to normal. Had it all been a mistake? Was Sherlock regretting it? John lifted his head in time to see Sherlock staring at him, analyzing him. His gaze was soft as he moved his eyes over the whole of his face, which was turning red again. “I love when you blush.” Sherlock's eyes crinkled at the corners as he said it. John in embarrassment, tried to move his head down until a cool hand lifted his head back up. “Don’t be embarrassed.” Sherlock said softly, his eyes staring into John’s. Slowly, the detective pulled John’s face to his, placing his lips gently on John’s. Suddenly, John;s alarm clock went off, signaling the start of his day. He pulled away and let out a groan. Sherlock chuckled and stood up, helping John to his feet. “Have a good day at work.” he said before leaning in to place a quick kiss on his lips. He left the room and John began his morning routine.

“John you look like hell.” Mary chuckled, as she looked over the appointments of the day. “How kind of you, he said entering his office.” 

Milk John. -SH

John snorted at his phone. “What's that all about?” Mary said leaning against the doorframe smirking. John began blushing and fumbled with his phone causing it to crash to the floor. “nothing, nothing.” he muttered picking up the pieces of his mobile. Mary laughed and stooped to help him. “We still on for dinner tonight doctor?”


	4. Fiasco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so fun to write! It's very comedic and I hope you enjoy. Next update will be Thursday.

“Yes yes, right” John said clearing his throat. He had forgotten his prior dinner arrangements. What a mess he was in, on one hand he had had the strange night with Sherlock which he was confused about still but definitely enjoyed and on the other, gorgeous witty Mary who he had a date with. “Pick me up at six.” She said winking and sashayed out. “Hell.” John muttered admiring her leaving.

When he had arrived home John went straight to work on preparing for his date. He couldn't break it to Sherlock that he was going on a date so avoiding him seemed like the best option. John emerged from his room at five thirty, with his date jacket on. Sherlock was laying on his couch deep in thought, two nicotine patches were visible. John tread quietly across the floor so as not to disturb Sherlock, last time he had interrupted Sherlock during a two patch problem he had flung a teacup at his head. “Don’t wait up.” he said quietly as he left the flat.

Mary and John were seated at a quaint Italian restaurant in the far back corner. It was busy and smelled of fresh garlic and spices a string quartet was playing softly in the back ground. “What to do you recommend John?” Mary asked still looking over the menu, John already knew his order from his previous visits. “I suggest-” “Excuse me, kind sir but would the lady like to hear some choices?” John looked up and saw Sherlock, smiling. He had on a ridiculous fake mustache and a waiter outfit. “What the-” John started before he was cut off by Sherlock raving about various items on the menu. How did he know the menu so well and how did he get that outfit? John looked around the room as if he would see some poor waiter dressed only in his pants. Mary decided on the tortellini and Sherlock disappeared. “Whats the matter John you look as though you've seen a ghost?” John look a long sip of his wine. “Fine, fine” He choked out. The conversation went on normally though John occasionally scanned the restaurant for Sherlock. A hand reached down and set the food down for them and John instantly knew it was Sherlock. “Signora, your plate.” as he sent down the food he bumped the wine on Mary’s dress causing her to yelp in surprise. “Bloody Hell” John muttered, he then rose to help dry her dress. “Signora! Scusate, scusate!” Sherlock said still holding John’s plate. “It’s fine really.” She replied calmly. Then, as if the world was in slow motion, John saw Sherlock tip John’s plate. The pasta fell slowly and it was going to land on Mary’s head, there was no stopping it. There was a blood curdling scream and then silence Mary stood up and swiftly left the restaurant, leaving a shocked John and a snickering Sherlock.


	5. Rush.

“That was completely uncalled for!” John roared, pacing about the room. Sherlock was seated on the couch. “Her dress was ugly anyway…” he said quietly. “Her dress was just fine and was no concern of yours!” Sherlock leaned back and let out a groan. “What does it matter!” “It matters to me!” John yelled. “She is important to me Sherlock, I can have other people in my life!” Sherlock looked away. Why had he bothered that night? He had opened himself up and it had been a mistake. When John had come back and had kissed him, when they were on the floor wrapped up in each other, what had it even meant to John? For once, he had been open and raw, it was a mistake, he should have realized. John would never be his. Without warning, Sherlock left the room while John was in mid rant. He couldn't take it anymore, he wouldn't try anymore. He donned his coat and left the flat into the cold London air.

 

“Have you heard from him?” John spoke nervously into the mobile. Sherlock hadn't come back and three days had gone by. “No sign of him, won't answer his mobile, though that's not usual for him.” Lestrade was being no help in soothing John. “Yeah, I know.” John said biting his lip. “What happened anyway?” the inspector asked. “N-nothing, everything’s fine.” John stammered. He couldn't tell Lestrade what had happened. John said his thanks to Lestrade for looking and hung up. He knew he had messed up. He never should have blown up at Sherlock, even more so he shouldn't have gone out with Mary. After their night together...The thought put butterflies in his stomach, it made his heart race at the thought of Sherlock’s lips, he sighed thinking about the way Sherlock's voice lowered so seductively when he told him how he loved when he blushed. Though they hadn't done more than snog that night, it was enough for John to realize how Sherlock felt, and more importantly, how he felt about Sherlock. He hurriedly put on his coat, not wanting to waste another minute not looking for him, John left the flat and stepped into the cool London air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, a bit more angsty than the previous one's. I will update again Monday. 
> 
> Tomorrow February 14th I am putting out a fluffy Johnlock ficlet to celebrate Valentines Day, I definitely recommend checking it out ;D


	6. A Meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I have not updated in forever, I really am sorry. I hope this makes up for it just a little bit.

Pulling his jacket closer to him, John made his way through London. Still he had no idea where he was going. It was growing later, all shops were closed and now the late night clubs and bars were the only things open. Where could he possibly be? John thought he may be at Bart’s and went to hail a cab when a sleek black car slid into the spot. John rolled his eyes. “Bloody Hell.” The door opened. John knew from experience that there was no escaping Mycroft. 

“Hello Anthea.” John said to the beautiful woman who was so obviously distracted by her mobile. She looked up for a moment to utter a greeting then back to her mobile. John sighed and stared out the window as the car left the curb. 

About fifteen minutes later the car arrived at a warehouse that looked utterly abandoned. Of course it would be an abandoned warehouse, god forbid it be an office or a nice shop. Always dramatic , the Holmes brothers. John muttered to himself as he was led into the warehouse by Anthea. 

The inside was dark and it smelled faintly of rubber and rust. One by one each row of lights turned on. In the middle of it all was Mycroft Holmes is a sharp looking suit, casually leaning on his umbrella. “Lousy git” John muttered to himself.   
“Ah, John Watson. Pleasure to see you again.” Mycroft mused coldly.

“Get on with it Mycroft, why am I here?” John snapped, not amused at being kidnapped. Mycroft slowly stored toward John Watson. Towering over the short doctor he looked down slightly tilting his head. “John, as you know Sherlock has been missing for a few days. I had not pursued this matter, as we all know how Sherlock likes to go off on his own.” He paused as if waiting for a response. “However, it has come to my attention that he has made contact with no one which is not surprising in itself, however, he hasn't made contact with you, which is where my concern lies.” John licked his lips and turned his head, not wanting to face the tall man. “John.” Mycroft said this softer, with as much concern as someone with no emotions could muster. “I have found him.” John perked up, and turned to Mycroft, fire in his eyes. “I’m afraid he’s left his demons once more take hold.” John was puzzled, he searched Mycroft's eyes expecting to somehow find an answer there. “I don't understand.” John said. Mycroft sighed, shaking his head. “My brother has always been one to be adventurous as you know. Chasing after murderers, criminals, cases that catch his eye. There was a time when we were both young men that he began experimenting with opiates and other drugs. He took quite a liking to cocaine and began to use it regularly. I had no idea that it was such a problem or why it started. Sherlock has always been a private person so I could be of little help to him. Thankfully I was there when things went too far. He was barely coherent when I found him, hallucinating, covered in his own vomit. Had I not arrived when I had he would surely have died.” John felt a cold shiver run down his spine. The thought of Sherlock Holmes dead, of him lying somewhere weak and dying. He couldn't help but feel hopeless and angry. “I was there John.” Mycroft began. “I helped him regain himself. He found peace and put the habit to rest. Once you are an addict, you never really stop.” John cringed at Mycroft's cold words, his pulse rising. Sherlock could have relapsed, he could be dead. His thought were racing. “John, I do not know what has happened to him but things have gone too far. He has been in an abandoned building in the Borough of Westminster for days, I have not had any access to the inside. I thought that you of all people could help him better than I.” John nodded, he had to save him, had to find him. “I have a car ready for you outside.” Mycroft said. John began toward the door. “And John.” Mycroft remarked. “Good luck.”


	7. Charlie

In the blink of an eye John was swept away in the sleek black car. He was unsure of how much time had passed or where he was, he was only eager to arrive. Clenching his jaw, John tried to gauge where he was through the passing scenery, however the rain was far too thick to make much out. Darkness would fall soon which would make finding Sherlock much harder. 

After what seemed like forever they finally arrived in a very shady looking area. Houses in shambles, barely any street lights and quite suspicious looking people hanging around a petrol station. “You wouldn't happen to be staying would you?” John asked the driver. He was a middle aged man with a handsome looking suit on. “Are you out of your mind? In this neighborhood?” The driver scoffed and John left the car.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

White light. Clear and pure. Sherlock could see the white light. Isn't this what happens when you die? His head was swimming. I cant...

 

Cold and damp. That was what Sherlock awoke to. He was on the ground, huddled in the fetal position. It was dark and so cold. The ground was damp and it smelled of vomit and decay. “Where am I?” he thought, his eyes were still trying to focus on his surrounding. “John, I was supposed to go see John. I hope he forgives me for being late. Darkness swallowed him once again.

 

John walked quickly to the petrol station in hopes that maybe the clerk on duty had seen Sherlock. It was at least a start he thought. Once inside the store he sought out the clerk. It was late and the store clerk was nowhere to be found. “Hello? Is there anyone here?” With a crash a young, gawky girl came out from the back clutching a broom. “Are you alright?” John said instinctively, the girl looked as though she’d seen a ghost. “Fine, yes i’m fine.” She loosened her grip on the broom and the color returned to her face. “I thought that you were one of…” Her voice cut out as she glanced at the group of young men outside. “Ah.” John said following her gaze. “I was hoping maybe you could help me.” John said pulling the picture out of his jacket. The girl let out a little squeal and lifted the broom as if she were going to hit John from across the counter. “Easy, easy!” He exclaimed pulling the photo out. “I just wanted to know if you had seen this man.” He showed the picture to the girl who had calmed down knowing she wasn't being held up. “Yeah, he came in days ago for a pack of fags.” Biting his lip he returned the photo to his jacket. “Did you see where he went when he left?” John asked, hoping for any information. “No.” The girl said pulling at her ponytail. “I didn't see where he went.” Nodding his understanding John left the store. “Hey old man, you looking for some Happy?” John turned to face the men. “Some what?” he questioned. “You know, some Charlie? Candy? You know old man some cocaine?” John knew what he was about to do was stupid and highly illegal but he saw no other way. “Yeah, yeah sure. How much?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos, you all are the reason why I keep writing.


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